“Marriage agrees with you then?” Father asks and I shrug. Being married at thirty-one isn’t something I ever planned. I thought I would be older, more steady in my oncoming position as head of this family.
Life doesn’t always work out the way we plan. Sometimes, things go awry. Despite how thrown off balance everything is, Everett and I are standing together, growing strong as our relationship develops. I told him once I didn’t regret our union despite the circumstances surrounding it and that is still true.
“Everett agrees with me.” I am not sure anyone else would have. If I’d had to marry one of his sisters, or another player in my father’s war, I wouldn't have settled so easily. Maybe I would have allowed Sophia to be sacrificed but I chose Everett in my own way.
“And does Everett agree with your refusal to apologize?” my father asks, but the question isn’t directed at me. My gaze drops to Everett, along with my father’s. The younger man sinks his teeth into his bottom lip and looks away from both of us. “Well?” Father prompts.
I am curious to know the answer myself.
Does Everett agree with my decision not to apologize to Oliver for my well delivered punch?
“Thanos knows what's best for himself—,” Everett speaks quietly before lifting his head and looking at my father, “—and his family. I won’t question that.” Father’s eyes widens as his mouth parts ever so slightly. It isn’t often a man as old as him can be surprised but Everett has managed to shock him. I squeeze my husband’s shoulder while giving him a soft smile.
“Thanos isn’t head of this family,” Father says. My lips press together as Everett looks toward me. Dipping my head, I encourage him to go on. He is allowed to have his own opinions and speak for himself.
My father may be a hard man, but he isn’t an unreasonable one. He listens when it is necessary, changes his mind when it is beneficial, and takes life in stride. I know him to be a man who lives life by the moment but plans it by the month. He says in that way, he knows what is coming but can adapt to what he doesn’t.
“He will be one day,” Everett answers again. “I know he already manages many of the family’s affairs. If he doesn’t think an apology is necessary, I agree. I . . . trust his judgment.” My mouth presses against the side of Everett’s forehead. His fingers slip around my waist and dig into my side. A small smile pulls at my father’s mouth as he nods approvingly.
“Quite right; he does manage many of our affairs. I’m pleased to see there is a backbone in you after all, Everett.” Father reaches out and Everett curls away from him, cowering into my side. Richard’s eyes flicker to me as he pulls back. “And do you have any opinions on children?” he asks, smoothly changing the subject and making Everett’s face blaze a bright, hot red.
“That’s enough, Father. You’ve had your fun. Go terrorize your other children,” I tell him. He shakes his head, tucking his hands behind his back.
“It’s not quite as fun. They run to your mother,” he says, seeming to pout. I look around the room and find my mother standing with Sophia who is talking to what appears to be a very young Vârcolac girl. The child is a sweet thing with blonde ringlets and a bright yellow sundress on. She is giggling as she holds one of Sophia’s hands and spins in a fast circle.
“Mother, dear!” I call, lifting my free hand. My mother lifts her head, looking around the room. Spotting us, she begins to make her way across the room.
“You little shit,” Father grumbles before scurrying away. I laugh under my breath along with Everett.
“I don’t know if I’m impressed by your cunning or horrified by Richard’s cowardice,” Everett says as my mother slips through a group of Vârcolaci. She offers them smiles, greetings, and acts the way any good hostess would. There is no fear in her expression or hesitation in her step as she moves through the crowded room.
“Feel free to bask in the glow of both emotions,” I whisper to Everett. He looks up, a smile pulling on his lips. Reaching out, I push some of his brown hair away from his face, looking him over. He truly is handsome.
“I believe I will,” Everett answers. Leaning down, I press my mouth to his. After a couple of seconds, his lips part and my tongue sweeps into the sweet cavern I’m becoming more and more familiar with. Everett’s fingers move to my chest and dig into my shirt. Wrapping an arm around his back, I pull him against me and start to explore to my heart's content.
“Well now, did you need something or just an audience?” Mother asks and I slowly pull away from Everett. “If just an audience, I believe you have the whole room's attention.” Mother’s gaze moves around the room and I follow her lead.
Moroii and Vârcolaci alike have paused in their conversations. Dead silence has fallen as Everett and I find ourselves the center of attention.
The blush that started to fade comes back full force.
Stepping back, I extend my hand to Everett and bend at the waist slightly while the room watches. “May I have a dance, dear husband?”
It’s only fitting we dance since that is why everyone is gathered. We are here to dance, share a meal and attempt to make friendly bonds that will strengthen the peace Everett and I stand at the forefront of.
Those here expect us to kiss, expect us to dance and enjoy one another’s company. Or maybe they expect the exact opposite. Maybe everyone is looking for a crack, a flaw, a pseudo-peace between Everett and me.
They are going to be highly disappointed for my husband and I are quite happily married.
“I . . . I can’t dance,” Everett whispers and I smile slightly.
“Follow me and I won’t lead you astray,” I mutter back.
Everett’s fingers touch my palm. Standing straight, I lead him toward the dance floor. It is empty despite the fact the band has been playing continually for the past few hours with only short breaks between each set.
“Wait here,” I tell Everett, releasing his hand. His eyes widen but I give him a smile and approach the musicians. It only takes a few minutes for the music to start. Crossing back to Everett, I grasp his hands in mine. He looks up at me, his gaze uncertain, just as the lead singer opens his mouth and begins to sing a sweet melody.
Pulling Everett against my chest, I set my arm around his back. His hand slides to my shoulder and I step toward him. He follows by stepping back. I lean down to brush my lips against Everett’s forehead as I lead him into a spin.
He said he can’t dance but my feet aren’t being crushed. His movements aren’t as fluid as mine, but he carries himself well, letting his weight rest on his toes as he trusts I won’t let him fall, won’t lead him astray.
The fingers on my shoulder tighten momentarily and I smile down at the Vârcolac I adore. The song ends and the band begins another. Instead of releasing my husband, I adjust my grasp. I am not done dancing with him and he doesn’t look ready to leave the dance floor, to face the silence around us.
Touching my mouth to his jaw, I cradle him in my arms as we move.
Glancing around the room, I see my father lead my mother to the dance floor. She wears a smile as big as the sun as he draws her against his chest. They move with all the grace I know they possess. There is something beautiful and tender about the way he lays his hand across her back and she leans into his chest with all the trust in the universe burning in her gaze. Their love is undeniable. It didn’t exist the day they said I do but no one questions it now.
A couple minutes later, as I spin Everett, Duke leads Lilith onto the dance floor. She looks as uncertain as my husband but allows herself to be pulled into the dance. Duke bends his head, whispering something in her ear and she tosses her head back, laughing in a way that is so unlike her but suits her just perfectly. If a human and Moroi can dance together, can laugh together, why can’t a Moroi and Vârcolac?
Sophia appears next, leading an older Vârcolac girl, one of Everett’s sisters, to the floor. She worries her lips between her teeth but Sophia grasps her hand and begins to lead their dance. It takes a couple
of minutes but the young lady’s steps become confident. She pulls my little sister against her, spinning them around the floor as they both laugh, both enjoy the company of someone their own age, someone new. Maybe they’ll be friends. Maybe . . . they’ll be more.
A smile pulls at my lips as I look for Mason. He is standing in front of Susan Dawson, Everett’s mother, with his hand extended. After a moment in which she looks at her husband, she reaches for my brother’s hand and is led toward the dance floor. Mason holds her at a respectful distance, moving slowly, but they dance. We all dance and I sigh softly.
Peace isn’t as impossible as I once believed. We all simply have to move together in the same direction, even if the steps are slightly different.
18
Summer hasn’t officially started, but a heat wave, the likes of which Necropolis hasn’t experienced in at least a hundred years, has settled in. It fell over the region like a thick wet blanket. There is no breeze nor a gust of wind to give relief from the high temperatures. Escaping the oppressive scorch is impossible, leaving me with no other option than to simply be miserable along with Everett.
Of course, I am not exactly sure how long we are going to continue to suffer without dire consequences. The sultry weather is choking. I feel as if I am going to suffocate. Lifting my arm, I wipe my hand across my forehead. The shade of an old oak tree offers little protection from the day's warmth. My shirt is soaked, pressing to my back. Another bead of sweat rolls down my temple, over my jaw and falls to soak into the collar of my shirt.
I am sweltering and I only have myself to blame. It is my responsibility to keep my estate in good repair after all. With everything that has been going on, I forgot to order the seasonal maintenance the central air unit requires. It is just like my fortune as of late that the damn thing breaks on what is shaping up to be the hottest day of the year. My bad fortune isn’t only causing me discomfort anymore, though.
“I’m dying,” Everett whines, rolling in the grass. He tried to cool off earlier by transforming and panting but that had done more harm than good. Now, he is stripped to his waist and sweating buckets. If I wasn’t a couple of minutes away from being crispy I would have been enjoying the sight of my nearly naked husband.
“I’m so sorry, Everett,” I apologize for what must have been the millionth time. “The air unit is old. I should have known it would need to be replaced before summer.” If I hadn’t been dealing with the stress of a wedding, I would have called in January to have it worked on. They would have discovered then the compressor was going out and ordered a new unit.
“How long do you think it will take them to fix everything?” he asks.
“Three or four hours—” at the very least.
“Great,” Everett groans and rolls to his stomach. I understand his pain. The heat is ridiculous outside but much better than it would be inside of the estate. We'd have baked, as if trapped inside of a giant oven. I pity the men working on my air conditioning unit.
“Do you know how to swim?” I ask Everett. He pops up to his feet and I tilt my head back to look at him. He is grinning, excitedly rubbing his hands together.
“I love swimming,” he replies and I laugh softly, pushing to my own feet.
“Come on then,” I say, motioning with my hand for him to follow me as I turn on my heels. A palm slides against mine and I look down, watching as Everett laces our fingers together. It is a soft hold, sweet in its intentions. My gaze lifts to him and he smiles.
“Where are we going?” he asks.
“There is a freshwater cree—” I frown as my phone starts to ring. Releasing Everett’s hand, I dig in my pocket. “Sorry,” I say, “I’ve been waiting for this call.” Sliding my finger across the screen, I answer before pressing the device against my ear. “Hello?”
“The fire investigator’s report just came in,” Duke announces with a sick amount of glee. I close my eyes and inhale softly. My future plans hinge on the fire investigator’s report. “Valentine is pissed since he ruled it an accidental electric fire.” I exhale heavily.
An electric fire doesn’t require a private investigator.
“She was damn sure you were producing Ersatz,” Duke explains and I laugh softly. If we were producing Ersatz, a drug capable of suppressing any inhuman abilities, we wouldn’t do it at the waterfront. “Valentine wants to bring you in but I don’t think the captain is going to let her make a spectacle of the department.” I shake my head, my shoulders relaxing.
Charlie Moss is a straight-laced, by the book, get the job done kind of captain. The investigator ruled the warehouse an accident so Captain Moss isn't going to let Valentine pursue the case.
“I needed some good news today.” Maybe my fortune is starting to turn around. “Touch base with White; let him know I won’t be needing his services after all,” I tell Duke, glancing at Everett. His head is tipped back as he watches the sunlight stream through the leaves above. I tip my own head back and spot a squirrel scurrying along a shaking branch.
“Wyatt White?” Duke asks with something in his voice I can’t decipher. My brows pull down as I flick my tongue out to wet my lips.
“Yeah,” I say. Of course Duke is familiar with the old satyr since he’d been a detective himself almost twenty years ago. That was before Duke’s time at the N.P.D. but the old goat’s stories live on through every generation of detectives that retell them.
“Thanos . . . I thought Richard would have called.” Duke pauses and my gut twists. My best friend never hesitates to tell me anything.
“What?” I snap in irritation. Why would my father need to call? What is Duke not saying?
“Wyatt was found dead this morning. I’m sorry.” I stop, my fingers tightening around the phone.
“I guess it was about that time for him.” He was closing in on eighty. As old as he was, I always felt the man still had a lot of life in him. He was tough as nails and had lived long enough to see the bad years come and go.
“There are going to be services at Sykes Funeral Home—on the third, I believe,” Duke says.
I shake my head. It’s hard to believe Wyatt’s gone. The former detective just received news of a twelfth grand-baby on the way.
“Hey, we’ll get drinks and cele—”
“Cooper!” Valentine’s voice rings out in the background before Duke can finish speaking. He groans and I can hear a world of pain and annoyance in the short sound. “There’s a goddamn human at the gates. Move your ass!” There is a long sigh on the other end of the line followed by shuffling.
“I’ll call later,” Duke hastily says before hanging up.
I pull the phone away from my ear and shake my head.
“Is everything all right?” Everett asks, stopping beside me. Shoving my phone into my pocket, I close my eyes for a moment. Opening them, Everett has stepped closer. Reaching out, he lays his palm against my forearm. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No; an investigator I’ve known since I was a child passed away,” I explain.
“I’m so sorry.” Everett leans forward, his arms coming around my waist. I wrap mine around his shoulder and press my face into his hair.
“When he worked for the police department, he was always banging on my father’s door for some reason or another. I can remember him and my dad arguing at the crack of dawn all the time. When he retired and became a private investigator, he started working for our family.” In many ways, he was family. He’d been at our wedding along with his wife, daughter and two sons. I would miss him.
“Do you need to go into the city?” Everett asks and I shake my head and pull back.
“Not today; let’s swim.” I smile, taking Everett’s hand. His fingers curl with mine and I tug him after me, going further down the trail. We walk around a bend in the trail and Everett gasps, jerking me to a stop. Glancing back at him, his mouth opens as his eyes dart everywhere.
The clearing is well taken care of. My groundskeeper has recently mowed the grass a
nd trimmed back some of the bushes. Flowers are blooming, swaying happily in a surprise breeze that rolls off the creek and blasts into us. It provides a moment of relief before the sweltering heat begins to assault us again. The sunbeams feel like scorching lasers upon my flesh.
“It’s beautiful,” Everett mutters as I begin to pull him toward the gazebo and the protection it offers. The stone tile roof will be hot but since the interior is only protected by mesh nets and wood, it won’t be unbearable. A quick dip in the water will alleviate the side effects of being in the hot sun all day, too.
“You can take a dip in the water,” I tell Everett. “I need to stay out of the sun for a little.” My head is starting to hurt and I know that is one of the first signs of sun-sickness. If I stay in the rays much longer, my legs are going to get weak and my skin will start to peel away. I shiver at the thought, thankful my head is the only symptom I suffer from at the moment.
“I’ll wait for you,” Everett says as we move toward the gazebo. I smile at the younger man, releasing his hand. Reaching for an itch on my forearm, I hiss in pain as Everett gasps. His fingers close around my wrist as I look down. A large chunk of my skin is peeled backwards, leaving a large, angry red expansion of muscle exposed.
“Oh my god!” Everett exclaims as blood begins to brim over the edge and slide around my arm. A droplet hangs suspended from my wrist for hardly a second before free falling toward the ground. “Thanos . . . what do we do?” I shake my head. My head is swimming. “I’ll get Benjamin,” he says.
I grasp his wrist, holding him in place. His worried eyes shift to meet mine, still as wide as silver dollars. My tongue flicks out as I wet my lips only for them to dry in the next instant. My stomach tightens and for the first time in my life, I believe I am truly scared.
“Listen, Everett. I do need you to get Ben. Just explain to him I’ve had too much sun and he’ll know what to do. Before that, I need you to listen carefully.” Everett nods as I try to remain calm while offering him a smile. His fingers tighten around my arm and I close my eyes for a moment.
After The I Do (Meeting At The Fault Line Book 1) Page 12